


EAD 2019

by Aleonoria



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, NCIS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Competent Tony DiNozzo, Evil Author Day, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Pureblood Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-29 02:44:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17799647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aleonoria/pseuds/Aleonoria
Summary: Happy EAD 2019 :D





	1. NCIS

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 1 is NOT part of the _No regret_ collection

Every breath burned, hurt and seemed more impossible than the one before. Blue light shone down on him and intensified the panic of drowning. Being under water, not being able to breathe no matter how hard he tried. Alone with his thoughts and demons he began to take stock. A review of what he had achieved and missed in his life. It was not as if his life would pass in front of his inner eye, but there were some things he secretly regretted not having done. He tried to take another deep breath and was rewarded with another coughing attack. He knew he had to be careful, but since Kate had been removed from quarantine hours ago, no one could scold him for it. The silence was driving him crazy! Couldn’t they at least find a radio somewhere and turn on some music? He had never been good at being quiet for long and the combination of blue light and silence only increased his feeling of being underwater. Would he ever be able to go diving again? _Unlikely_ , the part of him that was normally deeply hidden spoke up, _lung diseases don’t get along with scuba diving and the signs of pneumonia are unmistakable._

So, either the plague or the pneumonia would kill him. _How exiting_ , he thought cynically. But he would rather bet his money on the first one, considering his weakening body.

From the corner of his eye he noticed a movement outside the quarantine area, but could hardly find the strength to turn his head. For once, he decided not to be stubborn and just to give in. When he would wake up from his nap, he would get Nurse Emma or Brad – and how crazy was it that the person who broke his leg and was responsible for his career as a cop and agent was now trying to save his life? Oh, the irony of his life. Either one he would ask for a radio. The silence was driving him crazy! Along with the blue light. He would probably never go diving again. What a shame, it had always been a way for him to relax. Maybe…

But the thought slipped away when eventually the weakness of his body triumphed.

 

The next coherent thought he had was full of gratitude that someone had been so reasonable and had banished the silence with music. When the next piece began, he almost frowned (if he had found the strength), but dismissed it as a coincidence. But after the third song he no longer believed in it. Had someone hacked his hard drive? If McGee was at his computer, then…

A quiet laugh interrupted any thoughts of revenge. He seemed to have uttered them out loud, for a voice he knew only too well gave him an answer to his question.

“Don’t worry, _Figlioccio_. Your probie has nothing to do with it. I took the liberty of getting your MP3 out of your car and your speakers from your apartment.”

“Dave…what? ... Dangerous.”

No matter how happy he was that his godfather was by his side, he wouldn’t allow him to be infected.

“Don’t worry, _Figlioccio_ ”, he repeated, patting the knee of the younger man. “Congratulations, you are one of those stubborn 15% who refuse to lose against the plague. But that you’d almost be carried off by pneumonia, that wasn’t the deal.”

Tony would have preferred to laugh, but found that he still lacked the strength and also suspected that this would only end in another coughing attack.

“Where … Gibbs? … Happened?”

Another quiet laugh. “You’re as stubborn as ever and probably won’t give up until you got all information.”

“You … taught … me.” These clipped and incomplete sentences began to annoy him, but he knew that once he had some answers, he would be able to sleep and regain strength.

“That’s true. Well, I tell you what I know. A letter with a genetically modified strain of pneumonic plague was sent to your office. The sender was the mother of an alleged rape victim who felt it had not been properly investigated. She didn’t care how many people she put in danger with her letter bomb, as long as her daughter’s case would be reopened. In the end it turned out that the daughter had lied. It was just an unfortunate combination of kinky sex games and a drunken driver, who ran over the boyfriend when he left the motel for a moment to get something to eat. The daughter was so ashamed that she preferred to accuse some unknown Midshipmen of rape.”

“Stupid … cow.”

Dave laughed. “I had some, well, more colorful descriptions. Both for the mother and the daughter. The problem was, the genetic modification made sure that no antibiotics would work and we could only hope for your stubbornness.”

“Brad … Thank.”

“I’ve already thanked Wolverine, but you’d better get some sleep. You’ll need your strength for rehab.”

“Rehab … crap.”

“Tony, this is different than rehab after your broken leg in college or if you have a gunshot wound. This rehab will ensure that you would be able to continue working as an agent or LEO at all. It will ensure that your lung function is restored as much as possible. Otherwise, you could completely forget your trips to the sea and even basketball will become unlikely.”

He took a frightened breath, he had had no idea it stood that badly for him. “Damn … life.”

Dave nodded. “I know, Tony. Just do what the doctors tell you and everything will be fine.”

Tony nodded slowly and then closed his eyes, falling asleep again.

 

Dave looked up from his book as the door to his godson’s hospital room opened. In the doorway were Agent Gibbs and Dr. Pitt.

“Was he awake?”

Dave looked to the doctor and nodded. “Yes, for a few moments and just like him, he had tons of questions. Which I answered, as long as I had the information.”

Agent Gibbs grunted and Dave could see disapproval. Not only did Dave have this information, but he also passed it on without first asking for permission. He also didn’t seem to like the music, which became clear that he simply pulled the cable between the player and the speakers. Dave shook his head, rose and re-established the connection and positioned himself between the agent and the stereo.

“Agent Gibbs, you may be free to act as you please within NCIS, but in this room I set the tone.”

“I don’t like the noise!” What an exaggeration! The music was at an absolutely appropriate volume and since it was Tony’s MP3, it was mainly classical music, jazz in all its forms and traditional rhythm’n’blues.

“I don’t care! My goal is for Tony to recover with as little commotion as possible from the fact that the security in the DC NCIS office is just ridiculous. If it were up to me, he’d sue your joint first, then leave and get another job. But that’s just a worried wish.”

“Tony needs rest!”

Dave laughed and then crossed his arms in front of his chest. “How well do you even know my godson? Yes, he may do his best work when being unobserved. But never, really never is it quiet. He’s always got music playing when he comes back to the office in the middle of the night and does the work he can’t do during the day because is boss is an overtaxing, power-obsessed autocrat who demands that his best investigator plays down his skills so the junior agents don’t feel inferior and that the members of his team have to fight for any form of recognition. I’ve been looking at this in silence for the past few years because I realized that moving from Baltimore to DC was really good for him and that he has grown. But believe me, Agent Gibbs, my patience is almost over and should the moment come that I think this way of working is detrimental to Tony’s health, I will make sure that you are held accountable.”

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Gibbs growled and tried to stare Dave down. But he only lifted one eyebrow and smiled coldly.

“Didn’t they inform you? Gee, that must bother you. But since I was taught manners, my name is David Rossi. I’m Tony’s godfather and his medical proxy.”

“David Rossi? The scribbler?”

“In your presence I’d prefer Agent in Charge ret. or Sergeant Major if that makes you behave more appropriately.” With that Dave turned around and directed his attention to Dr. Pitt. “Is there anything new about his condition that I can tell Tony the next time he wakes up? He already knows he has rehab coming.”

“Well, he won’t stick to that”, Gibbs interjected, thinking he knew his SFA well enough to be sure about this.

Dave ruse raised an eyebrow, but then said to the doctor. “I’ve already informed him about the possible consequences of not doing so. He’s not enthusiastic, but the idea of not being able to play basketball or go diving will keep him from shortening the program. He needs these recovery phases from his job more than he would dare to be stubborn.”

Dr. Pitt nodded relieved. He had already worried about what Agents Gibbs and Todd had told him. But he could work with these arguments. It could even partly be integrated into the therapy plan.

“That’s great. The next time he wakes up, we’d like to talk to him, if possible. In order for us to make a more accurate picture of his current condition.”

Dave nodded, sat back in the chair next to Tony’s bed and stared at Agent Gibbs. The man seemed to finally understand that he couldn’t get any further with his usual behavior and left the room. David sighed with relief and looked at his godson. “I really hope your ability to endure his assholeness is not due to any romantic feelings for him. Because if that is the case, _mio caro ragazzo_ , then I will immediately make an appointment with a psychologist. And I know some that even you couldn’t fool.” A choked sound from the door made him look up and saw that Dr. Pitt hadn’t left the room as expected. He looked seriously in the younger man’s direction. “I won’t ask you to forget what I just said, but it would be nice if you could keep it to yourself. In Tony’s profession, it’s not always safe to live this out openly.”

Dr. Pitt nodded. “I know. I’ll only talk about it if I get the permission directly from him.”

With that he went out, one last look at Tony, leaving a smugly smiling David Rossi behind. That was interesting.

 

~.~

 

Tony stirred lost in thoughts in his coffee when his date took the place opposite to him.

“Sorry I’m late. Our sick leave exploded. Means I don’t have much time either.”

He nodded, sighed and then took a deep breath. “First you should know that I had absolutely no idea when Brad introduced us and that your help was incredible and that I’m really sorry.”

“Tony, what’s going on?”

He put the spoon on his napkin and looked up seriously.

“What do you know about your father’s real business, Jeanne?”

 

 


	2. Harry Potter 1

Nothing in the little town indicated what had happened in its midst only a few hours earlier. The full moon shone down on it and the stillness of the night seemed perfectly peaceful until two figures appeared at the end of a dark street and walked it slowly down, long black cloaks lapping against their legs. They seemed almost frightened while looking around.

“In the name of Donn, what are we doing here?”

“We see if the rumours are true.”

The figure that had spoken first shook its head. “By Merlin’s singing socks, Wellington, just for your thoughts I should curse you. The Dark Lord cannot be destroyed. He is superior in strength.”

“But he is also just a wizard and wizards have weaknesses. You must admit, Malfoy, the signs are definite; something monumental has happened. There is hope again in the air; something that has not been the case for more than a decade. The number of dementors decreases almost hourly. Therefore, something must have happened.”

The second figure, which truly was Lucius Malfoy – a man of old and pure heritage – grumbled softly, “Right, let’s just make sure that all is how it should be, and then I can return home.”

His companion laughed, “Seems like you really do enjoy the joys of paternity?”

Lucius nodded, a spark of happiness enlightening his face. “It is really incredible, but you will know that someday too.”

The companion shook his head, light hair falling in his eyes. “I don’t believe so. The healers in St. Mungo’s told us last week that Valeria and I are not able to conceive children. Therefore, I’ll be content to be the dear uncle for Draco and Livia.”

Lucius grasped his friend’s shoulder, silently offering his support. Children were important for their society and not being able to conceive often left couples in great despair.

What Lucius said next held a great deal of understanding, even if it lacked in the wording.

“I am truly sorry. But let’s go, before anyone else arrives.”

The two men went slowly further through the small town. Their goal was the other end of the street, where a house had been standing until a few hours ago. At this point, however, there was nothing more than a dark ruin. They entered the house through what had once been the entrance door. In one of the rooms on the ground floor they discovered the lifeless body of a man. They approached carefully. The wide-opened eyes let them realize what had happened to him. After a short glance to each other, they continued their way through the debris. That was the moment when the man called Wellington suddenly stopped.

“Did you hear that?”

Lucius nodded and together they sneaked carefully upstairs, the structure looking as if they would collapse at any moment.

Lucius opened a door at the end of the corridor and horror dawned on them. The room was designed for a toddler, who was standing in his cot with tears running down his cheeks.

In front of the small bed lay a woman, her red hair tangled over her face one could still see the wide-opened green eyes. Her lower body was covered with a black cloak, obviously not belonging to the woman. It was designed for a man. A man the onlookers knew well, for that they also knew the piece of clothing. Chance was good that they could have drawn it with closed eyes: high-necked black velvet with a fine dark green pattern, which upon closer examination turned out to be a collection of small snakes.

Lucius sighed, relieved but also concerned about what might happen now. “So, it is really true. The Dark Lord is no longer among us.”

Wellington nodded, his eyes fixating the toddler. “That’s bad news. But what will become of the child?”

Lucius turned around. “I think I know what you are thinking and I think that is not a bad idea. I mean, we know who he is. And to see the Heir of Potter raised by William Antonius Wellington, near supporters of the Dark Lord. This is somehow priceless, but it will be difficult. Even in these times,” he moved a step closer, “but I assure you, I will do everything I can to assure that you can raise this child.”

William nodded and walked towards the bed. He leaned down and the child’s soft sniffing stopped abruptly. William smiled. This was a good sign.

“I will not do you any harm, never in my life. I do not care who your parents were. I will treat you as if you were my biological child. It will not make any difference for me.”  
Lucius pretended not to hear his friend’s vow. On the one hand he found it terrible that the magical world had lost two adults with the possibility to have more children, and that the one they had had lost his family, but on the other hand, anyone standing up against the Dark Lord deserved nothing but death. With these thoughts, he looked to his friend who now had the little boy in his arms.

“Let’s go. The others will soon be here.”

William nodded, reaching for the one plush toy that was in the cot and together they disapparated.

 

Shortly after they had left, a tall figure entered the house and searched through the ruins, seemingly without finding what was looked for.

“Damn it. Can’t be tru’. Dumbledore’ll kill meh. Firs’ order in a long time, most important order a’all an’ can’t do it. Typ’call’ Hagrid will they say; stup’d gigantic Hagrid.” He looked up when the noise of a motor destroyed the still of the night and moved to the yard again when the outlines of a motorcycle in the sky appeared. A few moments later it landed in front of him. On it sat a younger man with dishevelled black hair. “Sirius, what yer doin’ her’?”

The young man swallowed. “I heard about the attack. Is it really true that Lily and James are dead?”

Hagrid nodded. “Yeah, Avada as it looks like.”

“And Harry? How is he? I’m his godfather and would be responsible for his life.”

Hagrid sadly hung his head. “The boy’s gone.”

“What do you mean by ‘gone’?”

“Dumbledore sen’ meh to get‘im in security, but he’s no’here. Bed’s empty, house a’well. Don’ know what happen’d to him.”

Sirius shook his head. His emotions clear in his eyes. “They’ll have killed him, too. Probably they took him to prove the deed to the Dark Lord”, he swallowed briefly. His gaze became glazed and tears began to shimmer in his eyes. The loss of James and Lily really hit him.

James, who had been like a brother to him after he had abandoned his crazy family; Lily, who had always watched him, no matter what he did; and Harry, who was not only a godson to him, but almost a son of his own. Even if there was a little voice that tried to tell him that Harry was still alive, he forbade himself from believing it. There was no chance that the other side knew where the family was hiding and then left the most important one alive. No, there was no chance. Sirius sighed. He knew who was responsible for the betrayal and he would make sure that this person got their just punishment even if it would be the last thing he did in his life. He looked to Hagrid and his gaze turned hard. He knew he should tell someone about his knowledge. Not Hagrid, since he would want to come with him and in this case the danger that the whole thing got out of control would be immense. He gave himself emotionless. “I should go. Still have some things to do. I wish you all the best for the future.” He climbed back on his bike and wanted to leave, but then decided differently. “Hagrid, know what? I’ll leave you my bike. Where I’m going, I have no use of it.”

He descended and disappeared into the night. Hagrid looked after him, frowning.

“What’s tha’? He’d nev’ leav’is bike.”

But Hagrid would not be Hagrid if he worried about that for too long. He just shrugged, then climbed onto the bike and headed for Dumbledore to tell him the news of the vanished Harry James Potter.

 

~.~

 

The sun began to set when the scenery suddenly changed. They were there!

Harry looked tensely at the scene that was spreading beneath him. For several minutes mages had been apparating to the lands. But apparently the protective spells of Giselle and the other teachers still held their ground. That was something he was rather relieved about. Because it would buy them time. Not much, but also a little was enough in their current situation.

He flinched as a small hand slid into his and another one was placed on his shoulder. He looked first to the right, then to the left. Next to him were his friends, no, his family. Livia, his love, his angel, squeezed his hand and Draco, his brother, increased the pressure on his shoulder to encourage him.

“What were you thinking about?”

Harry shrugged his shoulders at Hermione’s question, who was closely standing to Draco’s side.

“I thought about how it all started. You know, our time as students, how I didn’t want to fit in at first, then the revelation of who I am, what I have to do. And especially how things could come to this.”

He made a circular movement and turned slightly towards his future brother-in-law. Livia leaned her head against her fiancé's shoulder and smiled slightly. “Somehow I almost believe by now that it was all predestined in some way. Why else would Harry and Draco be separated and become friends again? Why, if there isn't a big plan behind it all, should we six, who couldn't be more different, understand each other so well? And why, if not for a predetermined reason, is this group made up of two blood related and one adopted pair of siblings? I think there's a plan behind all this”, her gaze wandered over the balustrade of the tower into the depths. “I can only hope that the plan includes that we will all survive.”

Harry nodded thoughtfully. He hadn't told anyone about the prophecy except Draco, and Livia was so close to the truth with her suspicions that it was like a punch in the gut. “There might be some truth to that. I hope...”

He was interrupted by the appearance of Professor McGonagall and Giselle. “Sorry to interrupt, Potter, but that would now be all. More are not going to come. The twins have already sealed the passage.”

Harry nodded, had another look into the depth and then took a deep breath. “Okay, let's go!”

 

 


	3. Harry Potter 2

Actually, the evening wasn't as bad as Draco had thought it would be. The former Gryffindors present were leaving him in peace, apart from some dark looks and stupid remarks, which were not meant to really hurt, and Cider wasn't that terrible. Another thing the Muggles had done well. When his father was still alive, they only had elf wine, firewhiskey and the like, but this cider was really good. Draco just took another deep sip to dispel the dark thoughts of his old man as a loud laugh rang through the room between two songs. The laughter went through his whole body and caused a side in him to vibrate that he didn't even know existed. He looked around in the dim light of the pub and tried to spot the source of the sound. At a large table near the door he thought he had found the source. She wore an evergreen, long-sleeved, figure-hugging shirt, a black short vest and dark blue, almost black jeans. Long, brown curls flowed over her shoulders and down her back. A really handsome back, as Draco had to admit. The slender legs were also very attractive. Draco ran thoughtfully over his chin. If the rest of the body looked that good, then maybe he should have a little chat with the young lady. Because even if he intended to take his studies seriously, no power in the world could forbid him to seek the company of women every now and then. He took another sip from his glass, tilted his head and saw it as destiny’s coincidence when she rose and he could take a closer look at the long legs. These were not only in skin-tight jeans, but also in high boots, with a heel of at least ten centimetres. It had always seemed like a miracle to him that women could stand on such heels, let alone walk. But this example of the female sex seemed to have no problems at all. Sure-footed she made her way through the still full pub to the bar and gave Draco enough time to take a look at the rest of the fascinating body. But he hadn't had yet a chance to take a look at her face. But he imagined that it was no less captivating than the rest of her. Arriving at the bar, she leaned far forward over the dark wood and guaranteed him a glimpse of the well-formed backside, over which the pants lay like a second skin. He was still immersed in his contemplation as she began to speak.

“Hey Finnigan! Another round for our table and tell your fiancée to drop by when she shows up.”

The former Gryffindor raised his head and grinned broadly. “All right, Hermione and Ginny got off duty half an hour ago, so it shouldn’t take too long.”

The brunette nodded, then turned around and looked emotionless to Draco, whose features had derailed the moment she called for Seamus. “May I help you somehow, Malfoy?”

He looked at her, still with his mouth open in amazement, and was somehow unable to say what was going on in his head. Jamie glanced back and forth between his roommate and the brunette and then decided to give the blonde at least a more dignified look. So he leaned to the side and closed Draco's mouth. When he looked at him confused, Jamie just shrugged his shoulders. “Didn't look too intelligent.”

Draco nodded gratefully to the other, still not quite with himself again. Did he really stare at Granger? Did he really imagine what it would be like to do something with Granger? Something he couldn't associate with Granger at all? That was so ... absurd! In one move, he emptied his glass, turned to the bar and indicated to Finnigan with a wave of his hand that he should bring him the same again. Jamie was still watching his friend with raised eyebrows. Something was going on in the blonde. Something he didn't seem to like at all. A look to Seamus and Dean behind the bar showed him that the two had witnessed Draco's reaction perfectly and on both faces a broad, smug grin was to be seen. Slowly a smirk crept on Jamie’s face. “Hermione is really hot, isn't she, Draco?”

“Shut up Fitzwilliam”, the blonde growled and gulped down the contents of the glass. Jamie knew that there was really more going on in Draco’s head than he wanted to admit to himself and others. As Draco took another deep sip, Jamie sensed that this evening would be less alcoholic for him, as someone would have to safely bring Draco back to the dorm.

 

~.~

 

He had noticed her immediately, as soon as he had entered the ballroom together with Jamie. The floor-length black dress was halter-necked and looked almost inconspicuous; but only as long as Hermione didn’t move or turn around. As soon as she took even one step, you could see that the dress was not completely black, but in stripes. However, the stripes were in such a dark red that you could think they were black. But only almost. And when she turned around for the first time, most of the attendees were stunned. At the back the dress had a neckline that went almost all the way down to the small of her back. Her brown curls had been put back on the right side, dropping open over her left shoulder to the front. Her eyes had been accentuated by black makeup. She wasn’t wearing any jewellery, but everyone was sure she didn’t need it.

Draco shot a thought through his head that he had had for weeks, but that had always balked at them. To see her in this dress, however, made it more than clear to him that the young witch had developed into a classic beauty. For a short time he gave himself to the idea of what he could and would do to her, if she wasn't who she was. Until something caught his attention. At the other end of the large hall stood another former Gryffindor, staring intently at the brunette. He didn’t seem to notice the interested glances of the young ladies around him at all and Draco was now absolutely sure: Longbottom was totally captivated by Granger and, even if he would deny it at any time, he had thought that it would be good for both of them to be happy.

 

Later that night, Draco wondered what the hell was wrong with him. Not only had he given Longbottom advice concerning love matters at the beginning of the evening, but not even an hour ago he had encouraged Jamie to make a go at Granger’s roommate, whom he had apparently fallen in love with at the first college party. The blonde looked around and frowned confused. He hadn’t seen them for a while. He shrugged his shoulders. Then things went quite well on this front. Longbottom would probably take forever until he scraped his courage together and really took Granger out. But why did he even care what happened to the former Gryffindors? Absently he ran his right hand over his left forearm. Maybe it was as he had been thinking in October. He was missing someone he could really talk to. Someone he could call a friend. He considered Blaise his friend, but something was missing in their relationship. Maybe it came through the distance, but the blonde acknowledged that he was lonely. Now that Jamie had disappeared somewhere else, he stood alone in the room watching the other students. He was occasionally eyed by one of the witches, but he hadn’t been approached yet. But hadn’t it always been that way? Nobody took the first step towards him or approached him. What might be the reason for that?

Draco turned the glass with fire whiskey thoughtfully in his hand. What could he do, no what had he to do, that he didn’t become like his threefold cursed father, who could present a lot of useful alliances at the end of his life, but no real friends? He gulped down the contents of his glass and breathed deeply. He had to, ... he would, ... On the other side of the dance floor he discovered Renée, Callie and Michael, who somehow tried to dance in a group of three, but they only managed to do it in a mediocre way. He made his way through the crowd, put his glass down on a table and tapped Renée on the shoulder. When she turned around, he smiled charmingly at her.

“Mademoiselle, may I ask you for this dance?” he asked her, in accent-free French, what brought a broad smile to her face. Together they entered the dance floor and during their dance they talked excitedly, among other things about why he spoke her native language so well. When he explained to her that the Malfoys actually came from France and a branch of the family tree had married to England at some point, something flashed in her eyes that he noticed but decided to ignore. He had never really been interested in his ancestors and if they were all like his father and grandfather, then they could truly go hang.

After some more dances, where he had swapped partners with Michael, he needed a little break. Supplying himself with a new drink he noticed that the mood in the hall had changed. No, he shook his head. Not the mood, but the behaviour of the other students towards him. Just on the way from the drinks buffet back to Callie and the others, several students and fellow students approached him and they had a little small talk. Should it really be that simple? Did he only have to be friendly to others, in other words really friendly and not calculation-friendly, and then they were also friendly to him? 

Maybe it was really worth a try. But not today anymore. A glance through the room showed him that the ball was probably about to end and for the next day he had a long-distance apparation to Italy - where his mother was currently staying – so he decided to return to the dormitory.

 

Neville was incredibly proud of himself. After he had taken Malfoy’s, no Draco’s, advice and complimented Hermione on her outfit, the rest of the evening had become much better. They had spoken, laughed and even danced together. When the ball was finally announced to be over, they had not yet gone straight to their dorm, but had decided to take a little walk around the campus. Their conversation was mainly about how they would spend the holidays. They quickly realized that they had something in common: they both would visit their parents, but were not really looking forward to it. He, because once again it would be painful to visit them at St. Mungo’s, and she, because her parents had still not forgiven her completely for her actions during the war. They accepted her reasons, but could not fully tolerate them. Her father understood the desire to protect those whom one loved even better than her mother and therefore always acted as a kind of bulwark between the two female Grangers when their temperament threatened to get the better of them again.

 

~.~

 

Hermione sat by Draco’s bed, her eyes burning with tiredness. She watched as the serum was led from a bag through a tube into his body. Nothing against the healers of St. Mungo’s, but the Dubliners were simply better. They were not averse to the Muggle remedies, and therefore Draco now received the serum via an infusion. Hopefully it wasn’t too late.

Draco had been so stubborn, so obstinate. Again and again he had lost consciousness in the last weeks. But he didn’t want to stay behind. Didn’t want to let her, Jamie and Larissa go off alone, but to accompany them. The result was that he had fallen into a coma in the middle of the Russian tundra. Immediately she had apparated with him to Dublin, in the hope that Jamie and Larissa would get along without her. Two days later their friends showed up. With the right medicinal plant. That had been almost a week ago and the serum had been ready since yesterday. Hermione watched as it spread through Draco’s body giving his skin a slightly turquoise tint. Hopefully not everything was too late. Hopefully they could save him.

“Hermione?” she looked up and faced Ginny who had stepped into Draco’s room. “You should rest.”

Hermione shook her head vehemently. “No, I want to be with him when he wakes up.”

“Mia”, it was the first time Ginny used that name, and it showed Hermione that she was really serious. “You heard what Chief Healer McAllister said. It’s not sure when Malfoy will regain consciousness.”

Hermione lowered her head. “It’s my fault. I should have stopped him from going to Russia with us. I knew how bad it had become. Neville warned us. And so did you.”

“Mia! God damn it, look at me!” Hermione raised her head and saw an angry Ginny. “We both know Malfoy. You better than me. If he has something in his head, no one will stop him. You have no part to blame!”

“But what if he doesn’t make it? What if that damn thing kills him?”

“I don’t want to hear that”, Ginny said loudly and gave Hermione a slight pat on the back of the head. “Malfoy may be an annoying son of a bitch at times, but he’s one of those people who spit in the devil’s face, laughs at him and asks why the hell he couldn’t do better.”

 

~.~

 

Neville looked thoughtfully at the brunette. Her brown eyes seemed brooding, almost sad.

“You know Hermione. The look Malfoy has, he’s had before.”

“Really? When?”

“Back then. Shortly before the Yule Ball in the fourth year. Even though I was the first one from Hogwarts to ask you out on a date, Malfoy looked at you with a glance, I think if you hadn’t been a Gryffindor, he would have asked you out, too.”

“That just wouldn’t have helped”, she said with a soft laugh.

“And why not?” he asked confusedly.

She took a deep breath and looked at him from below. “Because, at that time as today, there was only one person with whom I would spend my time without hesitation or concern.”

“Really?” Was there actually someone in her life? Someone she mourned for in a way, which is why she had no relationships that lasted longer?

_“When to the sessions of sweet silent thought  
I summon up remembrance of things past,  
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,  
And with old woes new wail my dear time’s waste”,_ she whispered and then added: _“To be direct and honest is not safe._ ”

He frowned, wanted to ask what it all meant, but was stopped from doing so by her lips, which were cautiously resting on his.

“Oh”, he said understanding, as she stepped back half a step.

“Well finally”, it echoed across the meadow and he couldn’t help grinning as she hid her flushed face on his chest.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both quotes at the end are from Shakespeare


End file.
